


hug a tree, they have less issues than people

by CaptainArlert



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Treehugger Eren is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainArlert/pseuds/CaptainArlert
Summary: Eren's a treehugging environmental warrior protesting the bulldozing of a childhood haunt long after everyone's stopped caring and Armin's the low-paid, low-level, apathetic federal bureaucrat sent to get him out of the tree.In which I supply the eremin tag with fics that are actually Eremin fics and not crosstagging lies (you know who you are).





	hug a tree, they have less issues than people

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, an Eremin fic. That's unusual. 
> 
> Original prompt: Eren the environmental warrior and Armin the government agent who’s supposed to talk him out of the tree but ends up staying in there with him.

 

“Please,” the exasperated construction worker pleads. 

Armin Arlert, 23, valedictorian of his class, graduated summa cum laude, voted “Most Likely to Change the World” in high school, sighs and looks up at the latest of bureaucratic nightmares come to haunt his waking mind.

Construction on the plot had been hotly contested for months.

The locals wanted to keep their measly scrap of unusable farmland in its natural state, with scraggly trees oozing with sap, pockmarked with bumpy, pedestrian hazardous rabbit burrows and short, ugly bushes and shrubs everywhere a foot could land.

Environmental warriors, being jobless and hungry for a simple, uncomplicated moral uproar, flocked to the situation, made it something of a regional sensation.

They protested, sat in some of the trees, protested around the bulldozers, talked to the locals, caused a row or two in the town’s only bar, and left when they got bored, same old, same old.

Except one, apparently.

“All of them went but that one,” the manager of the project says. He points at a blurry brown spot in the distance, sitting almost at the top of the largest, thickest tree on the plot. 

“What do you want me to do?” Armin asks, his eyes slightly out of focus as his attention drifts to his nice warm bed back in the city. 

“You’re a small guy. You climb up there and tell him to come down. Shove him out of there if you need to, I don’t care, just get him out of there,” the manager snaps. 

Armin stares at him in disbelief.

“That’s really why you dragged me out here?”

“Isn’t it your job to do something useful?” the manager scoffs. 

“I work for the federal government.”

The construction worker snickers. 

The manager’s face is so red Armin wonders idly if he’s going to have a heart attack before fifty. 

But it cools slightly.

“Just get up there. Get him down by tomorrow. That’s the latest we can wait before we just call the police.”

“Why didn’t you just call the police?”

“Because these damn millennials will be on our asses for police brutality or the suppression of free speech or some nonsense,” the manager waves his hands emphatically, his face more of a flustered pink now. “Convince him to come down, please. This has been a real PR nightmare, I don’t want to start it all up again for just one person!”

“Ok, ok, ok. But I didn’t study tree climbing at Cornell,” Armin murmurs. 

Still, he’s a little excited. 

It’s been awhile since he’s climbed a tree, or really, anything higher than the stairs to his apartment. 

And this tree is relatively easy to climb, with plenty of sturdy branches and good footholds. 

He actually becomes so engrossed by climbing, putting his hands and feet in satisfying little nooks in the wood, that he completely forgets what he’s supposed to be focusing on. 

And ends up face to face, their bodies bumping slightly, the branch bending under their combined weight, with the last remaining environmental warrior. 

“Argh!” 

Armin almost slips off in shock. 

The other man grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him against the trunk before he can. 

“Sorry I startled you,” the man says. 

Armin pushes his bangs out of his face, flushed and a little sweaty from the climb. 

He takes a good look at the man who’s made him drive thirty miles away from home on a Saturday to spend probably all afternoon in a tree with. 

He’s dirty, probably from being in a tree for a week or two, or possibly more, his long brown hair matted and greasy and sticking to his head in untidy clumps. His face is sweaty and red, probably from being outside for so long, and his body is gangly and thin, possibly from not eating much. 

And his eyes are very, very green.

Armin doesn’t respond for a good ten or fifteen seconds, just staring at them. 

“Uh...guy?”

Armin shakes his head. 

He’s never seen eyes that color, but there’s something else. 

“Hello?”

They’re...intense. 

Armin feels a little shiver run through his chest despite the heat. 

He can’t remember ever meeting anyone with eyes so...overwhelming. 

_ Eyes like… a lightning bolt, striking the ground from an unforgiving heaven, or a tidal wave, coming in to bash rocks and houses to pieces, or a storm so powerful it pulls the air from your lungs- _

“Armin.”

“What?” the man scratches his head, some amusement in his little grin. Armin’s stomach does another flip. 

“Armin Arlert. That’s my name. What’s yours?”

“Ah? Eren. I work here,” the man laughs. 

“Oh, do you?” Armin asks, deeply relieved that the man had immediately dissipated the awkwardness in the air. “Do they pay for dental?”

“Why, does my breath stink?”

“I don’t care to find out,” Armin puts his hand out with a weak smile. 

The man, Eren, lets out a barking laugh. 

His laughter, like his eyes, holds nothing back.

Armin curls inwards, trying to make that feeling like he’s on a roller coaster go away. 

“So. What’re you doing up here? Don’t tell me you regularly climb trees dressed like you just walked out of a meeting with your financial advisor at Wall Street?” Eren says, eyeing Armin’s business casual gray blazer and ironed, pleated gray pants. 

“I sleep in this.”

Eren chuckles. 

“You know, dressed like that, I would’ve never known you had a sense of humor.”

Armin grins. 

He doesn’t know what it is, maybe the man’s ease, his eyes, his friendly smile, the warmth in his face, his eyes, the relaxed, casual tilt of his shoulders, or his eyes, but something about him is just very compelling. 

He’s not had a conversation this natural since he left college, specifically the dorm rooms, where he and his peers decided they would fix the entire world. 

“Can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“I’d love to uncover more of you.”

Armin, who’d been carefully re-situating himself against the trunk so he could feel a little less precariously perched, splutters in surprise. 

He’s not sure if he meant it that way, but it had almost sounded flirtatious. 

It had been a long time since anyone had flirted with him. 

“Not for sale. But I am here on business,” Armin says finally. “You need to get out of this tree.”

“Ah, I was starting to think you might be different,” Eren sighs. 

Armin feels a small jolt of pain where he’d felt excitement before, but he doesn’t dwell on it.

Some of the numbness has returned to his chest, to his heart. 

As charming as the man is, he is doing something illegal. 

“‘Fraid not. You can’t stay here. They’re going to start building on this plot soon, regardless of whether you’re here or not. You’ll be sitting in the only tree left here by tomorrow night.”

“Ah, a tree fort,” Eren says with mock adoration. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t understand why this is important to you,” Armin says slowly. “It’s an ugly old tree on an ugly patch of unusable, unsightly land.”

“To us, maybe. But who’s to say ugly things don’t have the right to exist? Nature exists the way it does for a reason. We humans just live in it, we have no right to tamper with it,” Eren scoffs. 

“Oh Jesus, this isn’t a liberal arts college dorm room, Eren,” Armin rolls his eyes. “You don’t believe in vaccines either, do you?”

“Let’s not go that far,” Eren says. “I just believe that people shouldn’t change nature for reasons beyond the necessary. And another shopping mall or electric plant or some other bullshit thing that exists just to line another fat billionaire’s pocket with gold is far from the necessary.” 

“That may be, but you won’t change anything by staying here. You’re one person, this is one incident. No one will even remember this in a month or two. Everyone’s already moved on, even the locals. People don’t  _ care,”  _ Armin says, frustration leaking into his voice. 

Eren looks at him oddly. 

“I do.”

That irks Armin for some reason. 

“And who cares that you care? No one. No one except the people you inconvenience slightly, and even they won’t care the second they have what they want. And rest assured, these people will get what they want. They always do.”

“You… I’m sorry, but you just sound like a man who’s given up. Given up on… oh, I don’t know, everything. Given up on c _ aring.  _ It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t even look at you, do you look in the mirror in the morning and see it in your eyes? Can you even see it?” 

Armin scowls at him.

“See, that there is an emotion! That’s still better than what you had going before,” Eren chuckles. 

He eases some of the tension from Armin’s shoulders.

Armin slumps back, some of his inexplicable defensiveness slightly abated. 

“You’re an asshole.” 

“Wow. You’re supposed to be buttering me up,” Eren frowns. 

“I’m supposed to get you down,” Armin corrects him. “By any means necessary.”

“Are you going to shove me out of this tree?” Eren asks, sounding both surprised and slightly daring. 

Armin blinks at him, a little amused. 

“Tempting. But that’ll get me a lawsuit.”

“What if I promise not to sue?” Eren asks. 

Now Armin is very amused. 

“You w _ ant  _ me to shove you out of the tree?”

“Maybe.”

Armin rolls his eyes. 

“This really doesn’t have to be difficult.” 

“It isn’t. Just leave. Bring me back a drink, I’m parched,” Eren says, his legs swinging cheerfully as he speaks.

Armin, who’s still leaning against the trunk feeling a little dizzy, watches the leaves rustle as the wind blows through them. 

“I’m getting dirt and sap all over my clothes,” the blond complains. 

“So take them off,” Eren grins. 

“Subtle.” Armin tugs at his sleeves, feeling hot despite the breeze.

“Just take it off, it looks too stiff,” Eren suggests. “You’re going to have a stroke.”

“I don’t plan on being up here for that long,” Armin snorts.

“You don’t think much of my resolve?” 

“No, I just won’t stay around if it’s obvious I’m fighting a lost cause."

Eren’s legs stop swinging. 

They bend, motionless in the air, as he leans towards Armin, looking incredulous.

“You’re a quitter.”

“I’m a realist.”

“A quitter. I don’t believe it.”

“Your type doesn’t listen to reason.”

“My  _ type?”  _ Eren exclaims. “And what type is that?”

“Passionate, wildly irrational, one-track-minded. Social justice warrior, you know, lots of idealism, but no logical compromise. Well-meaning, maybe, sometimes, but ultimately harmful because if there is any validity in what you’re fighting for, then you’ve distorted a worthy goal for your own personal motives,” Armin recites almost as if on a script. Eren, offended, gapes at him. 

“What motives?”

“Some people don’t care who or what they’re fighting. They just like to fight. Some people just like to feel morally superior. They just like the excitement, the drama, the feeling of doing something important, something worthwhile-”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that is that other people are living in the real world!” Armin says, his voice rising for the first time in their entire conversation. 

Eren is a little awed by the sudden burst of light in his eyes.

He’d been awed when he’d first seen them, because he’d never seen such razor sharp eyes. They pierced him, pull him apart even now as he looks at them, and promised that you would receive a fair trial, but may god help you if you were guilty. 

But there was still something a little wrong about them, and he’d been puzzling over it since their conversation had begun, since he’d had more time to study them. 

They’re keen. Shrewd. Maybe a little harsh. 

But there’s a dullness to them too.

Like he’s seeing Eren, reading him, but the way a librarian reads a catalog number. 

Now he looks like he’s...well. 

Reading a good book.

Eren is hit once again by a surprising rush of excitement and a touch of curiosity for this alluring yet utterly detached, dull yet sharp, emotionless yet opinionated bureaucrat. 

“People have jobs. They have families. They’re just trying to live their lives. They can’t all be dedicated to ‘the cause.’ They’re just looking out for themselves, for their friends, and families. The people you’re interfering with right now are those people. You really think the CEO is going to hear about this? Care about this? He’s probably buying out more useless plots like this as we speak. The world cannot be changed by one incident started by just one man, no matter what people want to believe.”

It’s so...depressing.

And  yet, Eren is strangely charmed. 

This Armin fellow has a lovely voice, even when agitated. Or maybe especially when agitated. 

“Isn’t that just an excuse not to care? An excuse not to do anything?” Eren eases his way across his branch to another adjacent branch. 

Armin, not even hearing him, stares off into the darkening sky. 

“People are simple. At the end of the day, they’re powerless. They know they are,” he murmurs.

“No one’s powerless. Every human has a little bit of power, hiding somewhere, waiting to come out. No matter how powerless they feel,” Eren says, starting to catch on.

“What did I say about living in the real world, Eren?” Armin sighs. 

Eren feels a little shiver, hearing his name from his mouth. 

“It’s overrated. You don’t even like living there, do you?”

“It’s not a matter of preference.” 

“I think it is. I think you know it is too. You’re smart, anything I say you could spin to your advantage. Which I respect, don’t get me wrong, but deep down, you must know what I’m talking about. In order to argue with someone, you have to understand their side of things. In order to understand anyone’s motivations, you have to get into their head, don’t you? And you’ve been trying to do that, right? That’s kind of your job today. Get in my head, twist me up, first see my side, adjust your argument, then get me on your side? But you said you want to live in reality, so let’s talk reality, Armin.” Eren takes great pleasure in saying his name slowly, with a slight teasing purr. 

Armin tries to hide an involuntary smile. 

Victory.

“What do you care about? Do you actually believe in anything?”

The smile goes away.

Eren will miss it, but he needs to hear Armin’s answer more.

Maybe he’ll get him to smile later.

“Irrelevant.”

“It’s perfectly relevant. You want to convince me to do something? Tell me what makes  _ you  _ tick. Tell me why I should listen to you, why I should relate to  _ you  _ and see your perspective. And be honest! Don’t say something you think I’d like to hear. What I’d like to hear is the truth, hard, plain, simple. What’s your real opinion of this?”

Armin scratches his neck. 

He looks tired.

Eren feels a flicker of worry.

“My....opinion...it doesn’t matter.”

“What? Yeah, it matters, I mean-”

“No, no, I mean…” Armin pauses. “It doesn’t matter...I don’t...I really don’t care.”

His shoulders slump. 

He’s smiling, but his eyes aren’t. 

“God. I don’t care.”

Eren stares at him for a long time, his legs burning a little from crouching in the branch. He lets himself slip back down into a sitting position, letting his legs dangle again. 

Then he laughs. 

And to his shock, and delight, Armin laughs back. 

What a laugh. 

Eren wishes he had his phone so he could record it, listen to a laugh that seems to lift Armin out of his body, take his weight off his shoulders, crack the cold, hardened surface of his tired skin. 

He seems younger when he laughs. 

Almost like a teenager, a gangly, cute blond teenager laughing without a care in the world in a tree. 

“You really don’t, do you?”

“No. I just want to go home and watch a documentary. I’m tired, it’s been a tough week. What kind of shitlord makes me go in on a Saturday to sit in a tree with a stranger? That doesn’t seem constitutional.”

“Cruel and unusual punishment,” Eren chuckles. 

“Beyond cruel.”

“What kind of documentary?”

It’s dark, but Armin’s eyes are so bright. 

“Pardon?”

“What kind of documentary would you watch right now, if you could?”

“Hm...something about marine life in the Pacific, maybe. Or the Gulf Stream. Lots of gorgeous places to see on the West coast too. Lots of fascinating wildlife. The ocean’s such a...beautiful place.”

“It always seemed just...flat out terrifying to me,” Eren admits. 

Armin’s eyes flash. “Terrifying, but beautiful too.”

“Fair enough.”

“You sound like you’re passionate about the ocean. Why aren’t you an oceanographer or something?”

Armin shifts slightly. 

He looks less tired, more interested in the topic at hand, but he’s still uncomfortable. 

Eren imagines his back hurts from sitting in a stiff office chair at a desk all day. 

“My parents encouraged me to make the ocean my...hobby. They encouraged me to go into politics and government. And  I...told myself that I could make it work. I could protect the ocean, love it in my downtime. Become an...environmental lawyer or something. I minored in Ocean Sciences in college.”

“But now…?” 

“Well. I, unlike you, chose to live in reality,” Armin says simply. 

His voice is so flat, Eren feels something in his chest slip, a sharp jolt of pain, at its cadence. 

“After college, I was lost. My parents wanted me to go to law school, but I couldn’t do it. I...snapped after my senior year. I’d been...struggling with depression since middle school, but when I graduated, and I felt...absolutely  _ nothing?  _ I just couldn’t cope. I just didn’t have anything. So I quit...I just quit. Ha. You’re right, I admit it. I’m a quitter.” 

There.

Now Eren knows that’s pain in his chest. 

He doesn’t know Armin well, or even at all.

They’re just two strangers, shoved together by chance one day, as opposite as day and night. 

And yet, he feels like they came from the same place. 

Took different paths. 

But started from the same home. 

“Life is...a cunt like that sometimes.”

“Oh yes,” Armin smiles weakly. “And I couldn’t handle it. And here I am. Sitting in a tree, being probed by a dirty, stinky treehugger who’s probably think that the two of us aren’t so different after all. Simple truth? I don’t care. I can’t care anymore. I don’t know what went wrong. But something did. And now I just...want to be home. But more than anything? I just want a place that actually feels like home.”

Eren slips back to his branch. 

Armin flinches in surprise as Eren scuttles over to him,  his arms out to balance himself. He slowly crouches, straddling the branch like a cowboy, and slides forward until he’s much, much closer to Armin. 

Who leans back, but has nowhere to go.

The back of his head hits the tree trunk. 

“Easy, there,” Armin laughs breathlessly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Eh?”

“There’s nothing wrong with losing that feeling. There’s nothing wrong with feeling alone and-and numb and emotionless and not knowing what to do about the fact that life suddenly feels utterly pointless. I get it. God, I get it. I-I have- there are...highs and lows for...everyone. Some days, I wanna fight the entire world. Some days I wish it would just burn. Explode. Disintegrate itself,” Eren blurts out quickly, feeling as though he needs to get it all out, like Armin needs to know how he feels, because he  _ understands.  _ “Some mornings, I just wake up feeling so angry and tight and coiled and everything bothers me. Everything hurts. Everyone sucks, everyone has awful opinions and they’ll never change, they’ll never understand. I feel almost physically sick thinking about how angry I am, how...how powerless I feel. That’s a part of life, it’s- it’s-just-no, it’s not  _ ok.  _ But it’s...a part of you. Isn’t it?”

Armin seems alarmed, but Eren can’t bring himself to back up. 

“I...I’m sorry. I just...think you...I mean I know how you feel. I really do.”

Armin relaxes slightly. 

He awkwardly pats Eren’s head. 

“Settle down, boy. I understand.”

Eren feels a warm jolt of pleasure starting from where Armin’s fingertips are pressed into his scalp and going right into his chest, sparking a warm fire in his chest. 

“I wouldn’t mind being a dog.”

“Me neither.”

“Especially not if you were my owner.”

Armin’s brow furrows. 

For a moment, Eren thinks he’s angry. 

But then he erupts into wild laughter, much more ferocious and free-spirited than it was before. 

If Eren’s blood wasn’t on fire before…

“You’re so creepy.”

“I’m just an honest man,” Eren says with mock offense. He puts his hand over his heart. “Sometimes a man likes to take orders.”

“Not from other men,” Armin snorts. 

“Even from other men.”

Armin rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t mean just...uh...sexually, I mean in general. People don’t always like having the responsibility-”

“Oh my god, you had to bring it there. You couldn’t just leave it as an innuendo, you had to breach the line,” Armin suddenly groans. 

Eren’s mouth falls open in disbelief. 

“Oh come now, it’s too late now for you to back down, we’re having a heart to heart. We might as well be honest about everything, even sex!”

“You want to talk about sex? Because I’m dirty, I’m tired, I’m wearing a business casual blazer on a Saturday, and I’m sitting in a tree. I couldn’t think of less sexy conditions if I tried,” Armin shakes his head, laughter still in his mouth as he arches his back with a sharp cracking sound. 

“I think the blazer is hot.”

“Yes, we’ve established this, it’s stifling-”

“You know what I mean.”

“How could this turn you on?” Armin flaps the wings of the blazer at Eren. “I look like a douche bag.”

“But you sort of look like a CEO. Power is sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Armin says dismissively, jokingly. 

“Absolutely,” Eren says completely seriously. 

Armin, clearly not expecting it, suddenly looks embarrassed. 

“You’re… oh. I thought we were just…”

“Middle school? Is that when you knew you were...you know?” 

Armin’s expression drops again. 

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“It’s a tactic. No one expects the dirty smelly treeman to be brilliant.”

Armin snorts, but his shoulders are still slumped, his eyes sad and distant again. 

Eren wishes it weren’t so cloudy. 

He’d like to see the stars reflected in his eyes. 

“I knew in middle school too.”

Armin smiles half-heartedly.

“It’s a magical time.”

“I got into fights at school with people. Got my nose broken twice. Broke seven bones in my hand punching a kid in the jaw. Got my sister in trouble cuz she kicked the ass of a guy who spray painted my locker with ‘faggot’ in red. God, that was a legendary day...she was suspended, but luckily, she’s always been handy with cars. She works as an auto-mechanic now, makes more money than most of the kids who dropped out to be miners or plant workers.”

Armin smiles. 

Moonlight softens his face, his eyes, even more. 

“She sounds great.”

“She’s badass. Stronger than me.”

“I’ll bet.”

“She should be here around midnight to drop off some sandwiches and a new water bottle. She’s my enabler, you see.”

“Ah. Maybe I can convince her to stop enabling you. Cut off your supply line.”

“Not a chance. She’s more stubborn than me.”

“Runs in the family?” Armin swats at his face, shooing away mosquitoes. 

“She’s adopted, but yeah. She might as well be a blood relative.”

Armin swallows. 

Eren stares at his Adam’s apple, strangely hypnotized by the movement. 

Or just his neck, perhaps. 

“So I should quit, huh?”

“No. I’m open-minded.”

“You are  _ not.”  _

“That doesn’t mean you should quit.”

“I don’t like losing battles. I’ll quit while I’m ahead.” Armin stretches. 

“Don’t quit this time,” Eren says. 

“And why shouldn’t I? This tree’s more likely to budge than you,” the blond says. 

“Just...stay up here with me. Just for a while. I could use the company. It gets lonely."

Eren flashes him a charming smile.

Armin, unimpressed, stares stonily back. 

“You overestimate your own appeal.”

“Just throwing a feeler out there.” 

“You’ve been doing that a lot,” Armin accuses. 

“I can’t help it, you intrigue me,” Eren admits. “S’not often I get to sit in a tree with a hot, stubborn blond while the fireflies blink and the stars twinkle in the sky. It’s like a fairy tale out here.”

“It’s cloudy,” Armin points out. “And the fireflies are gross little cylinder shaped bugs, they’re flying menaces with warning lights.”

Eren clutches his chest.

“So romantic.”

Armin’s getting harder to see.

Eren can just make out the shape of his pale face, still see the edge of the soft, button nose.

“You don’t much like the country, do you?”

“I don’t like landlocked country. I like the ocean. I like a sea breeze. I like lots of rain and snow, not this humidity. I don’t like the South, it’s muggy and swampy and swarming with bugs and rednecks, no offense.”

“Uh, none taken.”

“I hate living near the capital. It’s awful most summers.”

“You live in the capital?”

“Near it. As near as I can.”

“Wow, that’s what, a two hour drive from here?”

“Yes,” Armin sighs. “So as soon as we’re done here, I guess I’ll be driving back exhausted and with an ass sorer than Confederate pride.”

“The tree bothering you?”

“All night.”

“My apologies.”

“This is going to sound stupid but...it’s really not your fault. It’s mine for working for the government, and theirs for making me deal with this and the company’s fault for trying to build on land no one wanted them to build on. It’s only a teensy bit your fault. I mean, directly it’s your fault, but indirectly, not at all.”

“Uh…”

“Shut up, I’m tired,” Armin waves him off. “What I’d do for a nap right now…”

“You can sleep, if you want,” Eren suggests. “I won’t let you fall out and I won’t bother you.”

“I can barely sleep in my own bed. I highly doubt I’d be able to sleep up here,” Armin snorts.

Eren slides right up to him, his thigh bumping against Armin’s,  throwing an arm around his shoulder.

“I promise I won’t let you fall.” 

“You could fall asleep too and then we’d both fall backwards and break our necks,” Armin says wryly. But to Eren’s great satisfaction, he makes no move to push him away. 

“I’ve been in this tree for weeks now. Trust me, my body knows not to fall back or move too much. And I’ll stay awake, man. If you want to sleep, then sleep. But I definitely don’t think you should leave. Your superiors will think you didn’t even try to talk me down. Much better if you stay up here all night and then come down looking all tired and worn and then they know you did your best. But the truth is that you essentially get paid for sleeping, so-”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and let me sleep.”

Armin squeezes his eyes shut. 

But instead of leaning against the tree trunk like Eren expected, he instead leans against Eren’s shoulder, into the crook of his arm, his hair, tinged with moonlight silver, tickling his neck. 

Eren laughs quietly into Armin’s hair, breathing in his smell.

Armin feels strangely comfortable with this setup, despite knowing Eren for a few hours at most. 

His breath is warm on his ear and neck, sending tingles down his spine. 

His arm is strong and secure on his back, gripping him comfortingly tight.

The height seems less intimidating, less scary with Eren by his side. 

“Don’t let me fall,” he murmurs. 

Eren leans his head on top of his. 

Armin’s never had anyone hold him like this. 

He hasn’t felt this...safe? Content?

In a long time. 

“I won’t.”

Armin believes him. 

* * *

Armin does fall asleep.

And he has the best sleep he’s had in years.

But unfortunately, when he wakes up, he’s forced to deal with the reality that a tree is no replacement for a bed, even if Eren is a decent replacement for a pillow. 

He cracks  his neck, wincing at the gradual ache in his lower spine and shoulders from being slightly hunched over. 

Eren, who was asleep when he woke up, is jostled awake as Armin shifts. 

“Er-erf,” he moans. “Ah, man.”

“Eren,” Armin says tiredly. “Wha-what is that?”

Eren has a bag next to him that hadn’t been there before.

“My sister came by around 2 am with supplies. Here.” Eren hands him a water bottle. 

“N-no, I’m-I’m sorry, bud, but I’ve gotta go. I’ve done my best. I’ll just tell them you’re-you’re incorrigible,” Armin yawns. “Ah...but Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re going to call the police. Have someone forcibly move you out of there.”

“And they’ll look like total assholes while they do it,” Eren points out.

“I mean...I suppose. But...like I said. People really don’t care,” Armin says. 

Eren looks at him almost pityingly. 

“Sure. But I still do, Armin. They’ll at least know that. Regardless of what they think about me, they’ll know someone cares.”

Armin squeezes his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

Eren pats him lightly on the back, almost rubbing it soothingly, but not quite.

“No problem. You take care of yourself, Armin. No one has to care for you to care, remember that.”

“Will do,” Armin says. 

He begins to inch his way off the branch. 

But he’s tired. 

And sore. 

And his muscles feel strung out to dry. 

And as he’s meticulously navigating his way down, a cramp suddenly twists something in his left hip. 

Armin lets out a curse, then a yell as he loses his grip and tumbles out of the tree’s branches. 

He hears Eren yell something, but doesn’t know what as he hits the ground, pain splits his left leg in half, and darkness overtakes his vision.

* * *

 

 

“...are you awake?”

Armin wakes up for the second time that day, but in a much more comfortable place. 

The ceiling is white. The sheets are clean. 

His leg is wrapped in bandages and elevated. 

Ah.

He’s in a hospital again. 

At least this time, it was an accident. 

A pretty young woman with black hair and brown eyes jumps to her feet. 

She’s not smiling exactly, but she doesn’t seem unfriendly as she makes an awkward half wave at him. 

“Uh...Armin?”

“...yes? Who are you? Where’s Eren?”

“Oh, he ran out to go get you a stuffed get well bear,” the woman says casually. Then her eyes widen. “Oh. I mean he went out to get you a surprise.”

“Uh...and you are?”

“Mikasa. I’m his sister. I’m a mechanic.”

“So he’s told me.”

“We met last night, technically. I watched you while you slept. You seemed nice.”

“Uh… ok,” Armin says, laughing a little. She’s very straightforward. She isn’t smiling, but he likes her.

“He likes you a lot. He must,” she says almost absentmindedly, like it’s a thought that just crossed her mind. “After all, he got out of the tree once he saw you fell. I didn’t think he was ever going to get out of it.”

“He...oh. He did,” Armin says. 

“As soon as you hit the ground, he was out of it. He called me immediately and carried you to my car. He was really upset. The whole time he kept apologizing to you and saying he broke his promise or something.”

“That’s nonsense, it was my dumb ass that fell,” Armin groans. 

“Tell him that. He’s beating himself up over it. He’ll probably be back soon.” Mikasa tilts her head at his leg. “Tell me, does that hurt?”

“I’ve had worse. It’ll probably hurt more in a few hours, the initial pain hasn’t set in yet,” Armin replies. 

“You’re lucky it’s just a broken leg. You could’ve broken something much more valuable,” Mikasa states. 

“Like my neck? Yeah. Leg isn’t so bad in the long run.”

“Just don’t break my brother’s heart.”

“Yeah, I-wait, what?”

But before Armin can splutter in protest, the door slams open with a bang. 

“You’re AWAKE?”

And the next thing Armin knows, a freshly cleaned, judging by the smell of shampoo in his hair, freshly shaved, overenthusiastic brunet is wrapped tightly around him, his skinny but toned arms squeezing his neck almost in a death grip.

“Ow-OW!”

“Eren!”

“Sorry! I just-oh my god, that was the scariest moment of my life, I thought you died for a second-”

“He’s very dramatic.” Mikasa rolls her eyes.

“Shut up!” Eren yells. 

“Very.”

Eren finally lets go of him.

Armin takes a good look at him.

“You clean up nice.”

“Why thank you. You look great for a guy who fell out of a tree and broke his leg.”

“I’m sorry for breaking your strike. They’re going to start building soon, aren’t they?”

“They already have.”

Armin frowns. 

“I’m...really sorry.”

“I’d do it again,” Eren says. “It...I mean. I would’ve stayed up there as long as I needed to, but...you seemed more important...at the time.”

“At the time, huh? And what about now?” Armin asks slyly. 

He expects Eren to return with some cutesy banter.

Some snarky comeback.

Some glib line about how he’s regretting his decision now.

But instead, Eren, with his freshly shaved face and soft, good-smelling hair, and his tumultuous tidal wave eyes, looks at him and says, with deadly seriousness, “And now, you’re still more important.”

Mikasa lets out an awkward cough and slides passed him, silently excusing herself. She nods at Armin and shuts the door softly behind her. 

“But...you really cared about that,” Armin says. “You really cared about saving that plot.”

“Yes. And it doesn’t mean nothing just because I cared about your well-being  _ more.”  _

“I just can’t help but feel bad. I really...actually, I kind of admired you for sticking to your guns for so long,” the blond admits. 

“Ok, but I’m not just a stubborn, one-track-minded, oblivious, self-centered asshole,” Eren says exasperatedly. “I’m not such a tree hugger that I’d just let a man break his leg and just watch him lie on the ground collecting dust.”

“Well I’m glad.” 

Eren puts his palm on Armin’s unhurt leg. 

He pats his knee. 

“Say. After they let you out, how ‘bout we get a drink sometime?”

“I have to go back to my apartment. I have a cat, he needs me,” Armin says. 

Eren’s eyes light up.

“I love cats.”

“Do you really? Most people don’t.”

“I love cats. And you need a ride, right? Can’t drive with that leg.” 

“No. No, I guess not.” 

“And you’ll need help getting around, maybe. Someone to lean on while your leg gets better.”

“Someone to cry on?” Armin asks wryly. 

“As needed,” Eren says. 

Armin closes his eyes and leans back against the pillow.

Somehow, it’s not as comfortable as Eren’s shoulder, but it’ll do. 

And Eren’s here, so it’s more than enough. 

“You know, there aren’t many trees in the city.”

“I have a friend I’ve been meaning to visit slash mooch off of in the city, he owes me one. And I’m a drifter, you know, looking for a change in scenery. And you just destroyed my cause, you know. I’ve got to find a new one,” Eren says cheekily. 

“You won’t find one in the nation’s capital,” Armin chuckles. 

Eren stares at Armin. 

“I think I already have.” 

Armin reaches out and taps the back of the hand gripping the side of his hospital bed. 

“It’s a lost cause,” he says slowly. 

“Good,” Eren says. “Those are my favorite kind.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for n-k-y's eremin month. 
> 
> god bless her soul.


End file.
